


Tears of Dying Grace

by mydeira, Sadbhyl



Series: Responsible Adults (aka, The Menageaverse) [51]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-07
Updated: 2012-06-07
Packaged: 2017-11-07 04:41:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/427006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mydeira/pseuds/mydeira, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sadbhyl/pseuds/Sadbhyl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joyce and Ethan have a confrontation that’s been a long time coming.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tears of Dying Grace

**Author's Note:**

> Set between the episodes Dead Things and Older and Farther Away.
> 
> Written by Sadbhyl, beta'd by Mydeira

Joyce hesitated at Ethan’s door.

She had used the key at the door downstairs, but somehow she couldn’t bring herself to do the same here. It had been too long. What if she wasn’t welcome? What if he didn’t want her here?

What was she even doing here?

It had seemed like a good idea at the time. Rupert kept insisting Ethan had reasons for what had happened. Maybe if she just talked to him about it, let him explain, maybe she could make sense of it all and find some way to resolve the divided loyalties that were tearing her apart inside.

But what if he didn’t want to talk to her?

“Pull yourself together,” she chided herself. “When has this man ever _not_ wanted to talk?”

The sound of her rapping on the door reverberated in the hallway, echoing the pounding of her heart.

Rupert opened the door.

Joyce felt the bottom drop out of her stomach.

If things had changed so much that Ethan had finally revealed his sanctuary to Rupert, what was left for her?

“Joyce!” Rupert seemed just as surprised to see her, but he stepped back, holding the door for her. “Please, come in.”

Unable to flee, Joyce reluctantly crossed the threshold into the apartment.

“You’re just about in time for dinner,” Rupert continued, taking her coat. “Ethan’s making another of his intimidating casserole-like concoctions.”

“Just because you can’t appreciate creative cooking is no reason to deride my attempts,” Ethan said, coming out of the kitchen, a pair of hot mitts in his hand. He set them down on the table before looking at her. “Hello, Joyce.”

“Ethan.” She fought for equilibrium, but the wild flurry of emotions was washing her under. “I see you finally told him.”

His eyes flicked to Rupert. “Not really.” His new beard, still so odd looking to her eyes, hid his reaction from her.

“And yet here he is.”

“He didn’t tell me,” Rupert interjected quietly. “The girls were worried about him. They told me.”

“The girls. Of course.” Another layer of guilt and jealousy overlaid the welter of feelings assaulting her.

Ethan stepped towards her. “Why are you here, Joyce?” His voice was honeyed, hopeful.

She stepped away, crossing her arms over her stomach. “I came to get my things,” she lied brutally.

His face collapsed. “So that’s it then? Thanks for nothing and off you go?”

“Well, you hardly seem to need me anymore,” she struck back at him. “You have Rupert now to play house with, and Willow and Tara for female companionship. You seem to have replaced me pretty well. I hope you’re all very happy together.” She moved to storm into the bedroom.

She gasped when he grabbed her arms, slamming her against the wall with enough force to knock two of the masks off their hooks to crash on the table. She looked for rescue from Rupert, only to see his back disappearing into the kitchen, leaving the two of them alone.

“Do you honestly believe,” he ground out, pressing hard against her, “that there is any other force on earth that could keep me in this god-forsaken hellhole of a town? The only reason I’ve stayed in this pit as long as I have is in the foolish hope that somehow, some way, I might find something that would make you stop hating me. But I see now that was a foolish waste of time.” He shoved her, sending her tripping towards the back hall. “Get your things and get out, if you’re so eager to be quit of me.”

She caught herself, standing erect to face him, humiliated to be cast aside. “After what you did, you have the nerve to act like I’m the guilty party?”

“Ah yes,” he said snidely, “I wondered how long it would be before you raised the cry of ‘You done my daughter wrong.’ I’m just surprised it took this long.”

She slapped him.

Her hand stung from the force of it, but he just stared at her, eyes dark and expression cold.

Unable to bear it, she slapped him again.

His mouth crushed hers as once again he slammed her painfully into the wall, and it was a relief. Here was a communication they both understood, through which neither of them was able to lie. She returned the kiss with equal force, biting and grinding against his mouth, turning all her anger and pain and confusion into sexual aggression. She raked her nails fiercely along the column of his neck, making him cry out into her mouth. He caught her wrists and jerked her arms up over her head, holding them there easily with one hand as the other caught the front of her blouse and tore it, exposing her torso. Unable to prevent him, Joyce leaned her head back, exposing her throat to his sharp teeth while his hand slid violently over her bare stomach to take the front of her pants in hand and rip them open as well, destroying fastener and zipper at once. She gasped as the fabric dug into her hips before he pushed them down to fall to the floor. Before she could respond, his hand was in her panties, touching her intimately for the first time in months. She cried out, in arousal, in relief.

“God, you’re so wet,” he murmured, his teeth sharp on her earlobe. “I almost forgot how much you like to be roughly handled.”

“I don’t,” she insisted, sounding breathless and insincere even to her own ears.

“No?” With a sharp jerk, he ripped her panties away. “Then tell me to stop.”

She couldn’t make a sound as his fingers moved back between her legs, opening her roughly to his indelicate probing.

“Tell me, Joyce.” His hand abandoned her again, this time to open his own slacks, allowing his cock to come free before guiding it towards her. “Tell me you don’t want it. I’m not going to stop, but I just want to hear you say it.”

She twisted against his grip, the contrast of her half naked body against his fully clothed one overwhelmingly erotic. She shouldn’t want this, but she did. And he knew it, as he always did.

When she said nothing, he chuckled knowingly before shoving his hips against her, the long length of him entering her with the easy familiarity of a well traveled path. She cried out and he was kissing her again as he took up a brutal pace, rattling the walls with each thrust. She couldn’t think, couldn’t act, could do nothing but feel. And oh god, did she feel good.

“Are you just going to stand there and watch?” Ethan growled, breaking her out of her haze as his lips moved to her sensitive jawline. “Or were you planning on participating sometime soon?”

She turned her head to see Rupert standing by the kitchen door, leaning back against the hall closet with his arms crossed over his chest. “Just keeping an eye on things.”

Ethan didn’t take his eyes of Rupert as he tongued roughly along Joyce’s jaw, still fucking her with short, jerky strokes. “Ripper got into the right line of work. He loves watching. Gets off on it, don’t you, mate?”

Rupert shook his head. “You two need to work things out. I’m just here to make sure you don’t kill each other.”

“Oh, I won’t kill her,” Ethan grumbled into her ear, moving faster. “And she knows it, don’t you, Joyce?”

“You’re a bastard, Ethan,” she panted desperately, the delicious friction building up in her. She fought to break his grip on her, desperate to regain some control, but he only tightened his hold.

“Punish me for it later.”

She was close to weeping from the pleasure his body was pounding into her. This final pleading command was all it took to shatter her and she screamed out in orgasm, in fury, in sorrow. He let go of her hands to hold her close, cupping her head as he groaned his own orgasm.

She dropped her arms down around his neck, finding support and comfort in the embrace. But only for a moment.

Her fingers tangled up into his hair, forcing his head back from where it rested in the crook of her shoulder. He looked surprised, but his eyes stayed dark and hooded. Without saying a word, she continued to pull him down and he succumbed, still pressed close to her, his clothes rough on her bare skin. He paused at her breast, pushing her bra aside to nurse apologetically at the taut nipple, sending renewed tremors through her. She allowed him the freedom to shift to her other breast to repeat his attentions there, but then she took control again, her grip tightening to force him down further.

The soft pelt of his beard tickled the inside of her thighs as he nosed his way in, giving over to her command. Her head bumped against the back wall as he began placing gentle, worshipful kisses on her sensitive folds. She didn’t want gentle, and indicated her displeasure with a sharp jerk on his scalp. His tongue lashed out, swiping the length of her slit before he began devouring her hungrily. Groaning in ecstasy, she spread her legs wider to give him better access. “God, Ethan, harder!” she demanded, pushing him to a frenzy of lips and teeth. Each nip made her cry out, which only made him go faster and harder against her until she was keening her pleasure loudly.

Something made her open her eyes to see Rupert, still standing by the kitchen, his position unmoved but his face was dark with desire. He met her eyes and in that instant they communicated apology and sympathy and more without speaking a word. Their gaze held like that, deeply intimate, as she came fiercely against Ethan’s mouth.

Joyce sagged back against the wall afterward as Ethan rose to his feet. “Get undressed,” she ordered him, her voice breathless.

His hands went instantly to the buttons of his shirt, removing it and then his trousers quickly as she watched until he stood naked in front of her. He didn’t stop then, though, scooping her up into his arms and carrying her into the bedroom.

He lowered her onto the bed, following her so not to break contact, settling his warm body over hers as he caught her mouth gently. She gave herself over to the kiss, but wrapped her arms around him and shifted her weight, rolling him under her as she straddled his hips. His erection prodded her thigh until she shifted, centering him and sinking down his length, swallowing his groan of pleasure as she began moving over him.

“I’m so sorry.” His hands caressed gently over her hair and her back as he murmured against her lips. “I never wanted to hurt you. I just wanted to make things right.”

“Shh,” she responded, stroking the silky length of his beard as she kissed him soothingly. “Not now. Later.”

In answer he wrapped his arms tight around her, holding her close as their bodies rocked together, their mouths dueling more gently now. They weren’t fighting any more, the anger spent.

Even after all this time, she was still surprised at how gentle he could be. His violence she took for granted, just as she did Rupert’s tenderness. It was when they switched that it touched her the most. Ethan pressed up into her gently with her every downward stroke, pressing and prodding intimately without force or struggle, just giving and caring. And while her body responded as it always did, his generosity unlocked something in her heart. She wasn’t even aware of the flow of tears until her sobs began shaking her whole body.

He took the lead, rolling them back so he was once again on top, holding her close and pressing soft kisses over her face as he continued sliding within her. “That’s it. That’s my darling girl. Let it go, my sweet. You don’t have to hold onto it anymore. Put it all on me.”

Clutching at him, she wept brokenly even as her body shuddered in ecstasy, her face buried in his shoulder as he comforted her with his whole body. Her tears ebbed as her orgasm left her weak and limp, receptive to his last thrust and groan of release as he came as well.

She lay in his arms afterwards, uncertain of what happened next. There was so much between them now that couldn’t just be wiped away by a few hours of passion. She began tensing in dread.

Warm hands coasted over her back as Rupert sat on the bed behind her. “It wasn’t his fault,” he said quietly, trying to comfort her. “It was the children’s idea, Willow and the others. He made them include him to prevent trouble.”

“I didn’t think it would really work.” Ethan met her eyes, sorrow and hope there in equal measure. “I thought at best they’d bring back some . . . thing, and I’d have to be the one to put it back in the ground. I didn’t imagine they would actually succeed. I never should have even let them make the attempt, and for that I am more sorry than I can ever say.”

She wanted to console him, to forgive him, but after so long the words just wouldn’t come. Instead she traced her fingers along the distinguished streaks of gray in his beard. “What made you grow this?”

Ethan shrugged. “Didn’t have anyone to shave for.”

“I’m sure Rupert appreciates that.”

Rupert settled behind her, still dressed, and curved an arm around her waist. “A man’s barbering habits are a very personal choice. It wasn’t my place to protest.”

She didn’t look Ethan in the eyes, just continued toying with his beard. “I wanted to come here a hundred times. I just . . . I didn’t know how to stop . . . I lied, I didn’t come here to get my things. I just wanted to see you. After seeing you with the girls the other day, and then Rupert being here . . .”

“God, we’ve made an utter mess of things, haven’t we?” He held her closer.

“I missed you,” she admitted in a small voice. “Missed this. Being safe between the both of you.”

It was Rupert who murmured softly in her ear. “Sacrificing your own happiness won’t make things better for Buffy. She has to find her own way to live in this world now. You suffering won’t make her pain any less.”

“I know that. But I don’t know how to stop.”

His hand slid up to cup her bare breast, thumbing over the nipple. “Let us show you,” he said, his voice thick with passion, his lips moving along the column of her throat.

Ethan’s eyes were soft as he trailed a thread of her hair behind her ear. “Unless you want us to stop?”

“Don’t stop,” she begged, moving against the two of them in familiar cadence. “Please, don’t ever stop.”


End file.
